Heads and Tails
by Passionworks
Summary: Two-part gift for Meteror Star-K.L.A.B. Every coin has two sides; it all depends on which one you fall on. And, like all things in life, with every choice comes a consequence... No slash.
1. Part One

**Author's Note: Let's keep it short so we all can breathe a little. This is going to be a two-part fic about Azula and Ty Lee. I'll give you the warning early: I will not –I repeat, will not –write any slash. No. Slash. Hear me? This is going to be a two-sided "what if." We will see how both girls will react to two opposite situations. I think it might be appropriate to mention that each part will be mostly dialogue, not much action, which, to some, is quite boring. It isn't that I _want_ it to be boring; it is just that I yearned to devote myself to spoken words –exposition, to be more specific (I have to develop my characters somehow, right)? I don't think I need to say anything more. The title metaphorically says it all.**

**This will be separated in two parts, so I'd subscribe to the story if I were you, people! I do not know when the second part will be published. Hopefully I will have the time to complete this during Christmas break. I doubt it, though, but who knows…**

**I'm going to dedicate this to my best friend ever, Kayla, or affectionately known as Meteror Star-K.L.A.B. I just call her LaLa (you all should call her LaLa too). Here you go, LaLa –your early Christmas present from yours truly. I love ya!**

Heads and Tails

By: Passionworks

Part One

"Her cell is right this way, Princess," said the nervous warden. He had every right to be on the panicky side. He broke his official record –the kind of record meant to withstand _all_ threats. Apparently, even the toughest, most precious glass shatters.

"I already know where she is, Warden," Azula smirked, "Just lead me there."

"Fine…"

His strides were quick and his brow was coated with sweat. The Princess walked just inches behind him; she had no trouble matching his pace, though her speed was purely self-assured and confident.

It was not long before the two reached the high-security section of the prison. There were guards everywhere, surveying every corner for any sign of a disturbance.

"Hopefully we won't have an incident today," the warden whispered. Azula did not answer –she had no need. That, or she failed to hear him…

There was a sudden stop as the warden flimsily unlocked the designated cell. A testy, impatient Azula tapped her foot –perhaps to add effect. Effect to _what_ was largely uncertain (the princess had all the time in the world. In the warden's eyes, of course). Upon hearing her agitation, he swung the door open much too quickly. The metal-on-metal clash echoed in the hallway and rang in his ears. He winced at the sound, gritting his jaws, but Azula gave no indication that she was disturbed. She was probably pleased to have the pompous warden on his toes –_enough with that arrogant attitude for now, boy._

"Ty Lee," he said to the prisoner with a surprisingly level head, "you have a visitor." He spoke to this prisoner with an air of calmness and, as Azula noticed, with sincere respect. What, did he value the possibility of the gymnast's innocence?

And to Azula, "Our rule is a ten minute visitation with –"

"_If_ I wish to exceed this limit, I will."

The warden understood and gave no argument. He handed her the key.

She snarled, baring her white teeth, "Now, will you leave, or do I have to remove you myself?"

"Uh, that won't be necessary, milady." Hiding his shame and diverting his eyes like a lowly maid, he quickly made a mad dash for the exit, which, as he disappeared into the darkness, seemed to hug and swallow his bulky figure. _Good riddance…_

Azula turned her back to the cell and jerked the closed door with her shoe, which caused a booming clamor like clinking armor. This, as the nation's heir desired, produced the suitable effect: Ty Lee jumped at such a sudden gesture; eyes wide like a diminutive cornered animal. Upon looking back, the princess stifled a laugh, though, of course, in a place like this, even the slightest pin dropping produced an echo.

Azula faced her mutinous ally; "Bow down to me," she commanded, her words oozing like slime from a famished beast's maw. "Show your respect to your nation's princess."

The acrobat responded instantly.

"Good. I order you to come into the light and face me now. Let me see just what they've done to you here…"

Now the princess captured the glint of tears, streaks upon once rosy cheeks. She raised both eyebrows, but regained her composure with a curled grin, one that reeked of malevolence and pure, unadulterated revulsion.

"Hah, a warden's sole duty in life is to break his prisoners down. I can see _this_ warden did a fine job with you. I can't detect even a sliver of happiness in your eyes."

Ty Lee's lip quivered. She stretched a hand to her lashes in attempt to wipe the falling tears away.

"How about I lighten the mood?" Azula asked flippantly; she was quite ready to patronize the cornered girl. "Well, what color might _your_ aura be today, Ty Lee? It couldn't possibly be pink. Is mine pink? I'm in a blissful frame of mind, as you can see." She cackled madly, "Oh, I could go on all day with you…

"And just take a look at your clothes! Mere rags, I say: a filthy stigma. What a sad and pitiful mark of shame. You _do_ have shame for what you have done, correct?"

The budding circus performer let her hair fall to her face, hiding her depressive expression from the presumed heir to the throne.

Azula heard nothing that could qualify as an answer to her inquiry; this, quite frankly, provided a motive for her intensifying rage.

She grabbed Ty Lee by her tattered collar; "Dare you defy my demand?" she growled. "I told you to answer a simple question." She held out a threatening hand, which supported an emerging azure flame. The girl flinched, an apprehensive look seizing her countenance.

"Now, answer me. Unless you believe that you can overpower me again? Which, may I remind you, is impossible. You give me one reason to test this flame, and I will."

She cleared her throat authoritatively, "Yes or no?"

A completely traumatized Ty Lee was now unable to control her trembling lip; the misery of defeat was far too much to bear…

"Azula!" she cried out, lashing out to the princess by taking hold of her shoulders, which extinguished the flame she was nurturing. "I hurt you; I know I embarrassed you in front of all those people! I regret it so much!"

"So the remorse finally reveals itself, eh?" Azula snidely asked as she tried desperately to pull the well-built acrobat off. Rolling her eyes, she whispered, "Care to elaborate on this?"

Ty Lee wiped her nose and backed away, "I didn't want to see either you, or Mai get hurt." She sniffled audibly before continuing, "I hated seeing my friends fighting. I had to do something about it."

"Liar," the princess stated with a sneer, "but if this is your standing argument, why did you attack me before Mai? She had weapons, daggers for Pete's sake; certainly she appeared to be a greater threat than I."

"Well," the prisoner hesitated, "you made the first move…"

"Did I?" Azula falsely mustered a flabbergasted tone, alarm humorously plastered on her face. "You must have a better excuse than that. I should think you are fabricating a lie."

"But I'm not, Azula," she snapped back, which was completely out of line in the eyes of the princess.

"I would subdue that tone, if I were you, Ty Lee," Azula answered, almost resembling a stern mother scolding a mischievous child.

The gymnast backed off, "I'm sorry, Azula, I really am. And I want you to know that I meant you no disrespect. Think about our friendship. I value you as my ally, my best friend –the only person in this entire world to ever see me as an individual.

"Do you still perceive me as a friend, Azula?" She stated this with a glimmer of hope on her tongue. Optimism began to suddenly rise within the depths of her irises. _Certainly the princess appreciated comradeship…_

"Actually, I do not."

Ty Lee gasped, losing every bit of confidence she held within.

"Why, Azula?" Pain resonated in her voice.

"Because you don't quite understand just what it was that you did to me. You literally shattered my belief in the necessity of our alliance. I knew Mai would fall one day, fall for _Zuko,_ anyway, which she clearly did. But that was her choice, and she paid for it."

"Mai? Where is she? Is she still here?"

"No," the princess answered matter-of-factly, "I had her slaughtered by my own hands. She asked for it and I delivered; simple as that."

The tears began to trickle down Ty Lee's curved cheeks, "You _killed_ Mai? How could you do that?"

Azula absentmindedly examined her deadly claws; she was basking in her dominance, clearly enjoying this mind game. "I relieved Mai of her misery, is all. She simply had no desire to live. Her mother was an intolerable bitch, her father was too absorbed in his political career, her lover was a bandit –a treasonous radical, no less –and she was serving a life sentence for treason. I humanely gave her a quick death, and you dare think to call me _unkind. _I eliminated Mai because she was so steadfast and persistent with her opinions, pleading that Zuko would come and rescue her. As if I would have allowed for such a thing! A Deus ex Machina, like a fairytale ending in a play. I thought Mai had a less _jovial_ imagination; wouldn't you say?"

The gymnast recalled what had occurred when she failed to answer the princess, and in doing so, she nodded her head, slowly, though. Somberly even.

"But no worries, in your case, at least. I have determined that you are worthy of my mercy. You are a bubbly spirit, and unlike Mai, you seem to value life. With that said, I spare you my wrath. How thoughtful of me, eh?"

Ty Lee grinned from ear-to-ear now. _Comradeship certainly is an unwavering force…_

"Are you going to set me free, Azula?"

Ah, the princess was truly dumbfounded, "Why would I do something as idiotic as that? Do you consider me stupid?"

The circus freak persisted, "No, I didn't mean it that way! I owe you so much for the crimes I have committed. Please, just give me a chance to prove my loyalty to you."

"You have proven your _true_ feelings to me already. I told you that I was going to spare your life, not offer you a second chance. Do you want me to take it back?"

"No! Please, no."

Azula relented, "If you insist. Allow me to offer you some advice: in a predicament like this, you shouldn't test my nerves. Show me a little _respect,_ will you?"

The girl ignored the recommendation, "Oh, I thank you –"

"As a matter-of-fact, you should come to think of my company as a sincere benefit to you. As far as I can tell, you have no family that cherishes you. They won't even visit you. I'll probably be the only guest you will ever have in your time here, I presume. But don't fret, for I will see you again soon."

The heir apparent faced the door and dragged it open with a grunt.

But yet, out of the blue, a shaking voice called back, "How soon will it be?"

"Soon enough, I assure you." She took a single step…

"Azula?"

Azula rolled her eyes and snarled like an agitated beast, her back to the prisoner, "What is it now?"

She faltered, but gained a bout of courage, "I hope you don't take this out of context, but…"

"Get on with it. I have an appointment to get back to with Father. The coronation of the newest Imperial Firebenders occurs today. I wouldn't want to be _late,_ now, would I?"

"Well, I was wondering who does your bidding nowadays? I mean, Mai and I were always willing to lend a hand when you needed us."

"I've come to learn that solitude is best, actually. I never really _needed_ the two of you. You were just unnecessary baggage. Like two pointless children I had to carry over my shoulders." Azula's left eye fleetingly twitched…

"Oh, okay." Ty Lee recoiled as a twinge of hurt plagued her heart, but what was she to do about it? Azula was not one to soften or water down her words when one felt offended by them. As a prisoner and a low-life, the acrobat was no exception to this fact.

"Do you have anything else you would like to tell me before I make my exit, Ty Lee?" Azula was edgy at present, perhaps worried over the affairs currently concerning her father.

"No," she replied cautiously.

"Good, then I bid you farewell," the princess responded with a wave of her hand, not even bothering to face her former ally in the eye. She shut the door behind her, but paused suddenly. Her alert ears picked up on the sound of pitter-pattering tears, presumably those of the broken prisoner.

"Good luck, Azula," was the shaken call that followed, hindered by the qualm of regret, and the voice was heard no more.

Huh, _luck…_ The word even had a strange ring to it. And left a bad taste on the tongue. _Who knew?_

"Pathetic," Azula muttered to herself, her eye resuming its nervous twitching episode. "I don't need luck."

She swiftly locked the unit's door. Upon hearing it click, she, in satisfaction, strolled out of the prison as if nothing had ever transpired. Like promises never made…

And, strangely enough, the princess' perspective on the situation rang true: by the time she even had a chance to reciprocate, the coin had flipped and she was on the _other_ side of the cell…


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note: This is part two of the story I'm writing for my best friend, Kayla (Meteror Star-K.L.A.B.). I hoped to have the entire fic finished by Christmas, but, as usual, I failed to meet any of my deadlines. But at least I tried, right? Hope you like it! I'll make this last part your birthday present, even though I passed that due date as well. I hope that doesn't bother you, LaLa! Happy nineteenth! It was on the eighteenth of January (MLK Day this year), if anybody else wants to wish my wonderful pal a happy belated birthday!**

**I added a few choice words into Azula's immense vocabulary, and I know many writers, including myself at times, detest it when others consider it fine to allow the princess to cuss freely without rhyme or reason. Yes, usually it is a general stereotype in Avatar fiction to associate harsh language with the common herd, but, the way I see it, she's been around a vast number of disgusting, scandalous men for a year, so she has to learn to keep them at bay somehow. I figure prison life hardens her, and I suppose she picks up on the jargon. The additions are not because I like being random and I supposedly desire to see how people would react; I just want to apply a common theme of prison life.**

**Oh, and for all those curious people, this story, again, contains no slash. If you are looking for slash fics, I'm not the author to turn to…**

**Though this is supposed to be my friend's birthday present –which it still is –the fact that I uploaded it on _my_ birthday (January 31st –I'm eighteen, guys) makes it partially my present to myself...**

**(Hey, Kayla, I tried to keep it short, and I know how much you hate it when my Author's Notes are pages long! At least I put in the effort, you know)?**

Part Two

"The princess has been recently released from a week's session of solitary confinement. I'll give you a fair warning: she's a bit unstable at present. I doubt it's the right time to visit her."

The sturdy warden fumbled a few scrolls off his mahogany desk and folded his arms.

"But I must, sir," his visitor argued. "I finally got the chance to travel back from the Earth Kingdom where I work. It's the only reason I decided to return."

"Well, it's the Firelord's request to not allow visitation for his sister. She's madly deranged: a classic case of schizophrenia, I'm afraid. And his majesty only wants what's best for everyone."

The condescending banter was pointless, and it did little to sway this steadfast guest.

So she persisted, "Zuko would understand my need to visit the princess."

"Princess Azula had you imprisoned at this exact location not even two years ago, if I do recall, miss –I seriously doubt the Firelord would see any legitimate reason in allowing you to meet with her now."

The girl puckered her lip, "What?"

"Uh, well, um, never mind," he coughed, clearing the phlegm from his throat. He took a long sip of his lukewarm tea before standing. Setting the pristine glass down, he signed a document and gestured to the guards to open the door.

"Well then, come right this way, Ty Lee."

The young woman stepped out, following the warden from behind. He remained stoic as he strode through the passageways, hands folded behind his back to maintain his posture. His minion staggered alongside him, but he was paid little notice as he scribbled some nonsense on a document. Ty Lee recalled this place rather intensely: the red, rusted walls, the chipped paint, the cramped living quarters, the appalling odor of black, cancerous fumes from the robust machines that operated at the lower levels. She despised the sounds she heard at night when she dwelled here not too long a time ago. The vivid memory of the rubbing of metallic pulleys and gears caused her teeth to involuntarily clench; the touch of bitter ice against her skin founded her desires to shiver; the stench of concentrated urine initiated her gag reflex, but she dismissed the urge to turn around and head back to Ba Sing Se without a word.

"The psychiatric ward is a bit of a noisy place," the warden said arbitrarily, lifting his chin. "You understand: the insane have no control of both actions and speech. Our Firelord's sister, Azula is among these hopeless fools."

"Did she really _snap_ like the rumors say?"

"Why, yes, of course she did."

"How's her progress, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Slow," he stated coolly with a shake to his head. "Tedious. A discouraging cause, really. The prospect of triumph is bleak, but Firelord Zuko is unyielding in his efforts. I praise the tax pour-in, yes, but I discourage his actions at a time like this –the success of the Restoration is far more important than the consolation of a deranged mass murderer, if you ask me."

"So, you mean she can't be cured?"

"For now, no, but perhaps time will get the best of her. She's only been here thirteen months, a duration that provides little opportunity for a breakthrough."

"I suppose you're right."

They navigated at a deliberate pace, each swapping casual questions together. The halls scattered past like sleek, distorted snakes, slithering about in blurred waves as if the reformatory was a single poisonwood branch meant for climbing. Each crimson brick was a bloodied eyeball, peering over like a spirit with painted fangs, sodden with malicious intent. These hungry maws were mere fragments of faces here, faces of those who haunted dreams and conceived night terrors, soaked bed sheets with perspiration, and sent excruciating yells of desperation from seemingly weary lungs. Each dimensionless figure that lingered had limb-like forms that resembled piercing claws, patiently waiting for the proper second to strike, the precise moment to go for that bloodthirsty, lustful kill. Once the time was right, existences were swallowed within the shadows of darkness.

After a time, the walls changed from a gloomy red to a stark white. Signs were posted around here and there, each mentioning the importance of staff safety; this was the prison's psych ward, as duly noted.

"She in the cell farthest from the outlet," the warden declared, pointing over to the set of stairs that marked the exit. "I'd approach with caution. We have no idea as to how she'll react. And there are guards everywhere; if you need any form of assistance, just holler. Besides, it's about time for the afternoon drop-off. We have quite an assortment of new arrivals heading in today and I have to be down by the gondola in half an hour. I doubt you'll need me, since, as I said already, my guards are acute to any danger; I rest my faith in their hands. Oh, and stay as long as you wish, but be sure to consider the safety the princess, my staff, as well as yourself. Good day."

With that, the burly man stormed off, and his lackey –a scrawny little messenger, really –trailed behind, holding a manuscript or two for his boss to sign. Ty Lee watched with interest as the fool toddled off with his master; the poor boy was a good foot shorter than the warden. Oddly enough, the situation reminded the gymnast of her previous days as one of Azula's under-appreciated cronies, back in a time when her eyes were clouded over with cataracts of illusion, back in a day when what seemed like bliss was really full-blown betrayal. The friendship was tied together with loose, withering string, or a weak, old coat of paste, but that was just the physical image of it; the _true_ strength was in the totality of Azula's control.

Ty Lee quivered. _No, maintain your dignity._ She stepped forward, her inner voice beckoning her to quit. She forced herself to disregard the call, as tempting as it was, and she soon was within mere inches of her destination. With her internal sensors focused, she felt the looming aura radiating from the door, brightening the hallway so dishearteningly that just the consideration of it sent shivers down her bony spine.

A guard bordering this spot gave her an affirmative nod and he rattled the rusty door until it unlocked with an irritable snap. Gesturing his hand ahead of his torso, she was motioned inside. The walls were, again, tinted white, but the color here was more of a pinkish hue, as if the typical crimson bricks were haphazardly painted over –the simple result of a prison makeover, perhaps. Ty Lee began to wonder if taxpayer dollars went into the psychiatric addition to the prison. _Ah, the corruptness of a desperate chief._

A growl, low and vicious in tone, disrupted her train of thought and she swerved her head to the right. The iron bars jutted out like rotten teeth, and a pair of shaking hands grappled them as if to yank the poor things off their roots.

A rasping cough, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Ty Lee shouted with a sudden gasp. "Hello, Azula."

The disheveled princess sneered, "I didn't ask for a salutation, circus freak."

The gymnast finally gave the princess a heartfelt stare down. Her hair was grayed with dander, tangled with a thousand knots and riddled with a million more split-ends, and her skin was pale with a lack of sunlight. Her body was terribly emaciated; each bone drew out her cheeks and the ribs below her breasts.

Ty Lee pitied her.

"Azula, I know my visit is unexpected, and I apologize –"

"The exit is just a hop, skip, and a jump away. I suggest you turn around and make your way back to the circus." A break in her speech, "Where you belong."

"Please, just listen to me. I really want to talk to you."

"Funny thing is, I really _don't_ want to talk to you."

Azula stood up, regaining control of her wobbly legs. She shot an arm at the wall to keep herself steady, and once she felt balanced, she leaned with her shoulder, pulling down her raggedy old shirt with her long hands.

Without any argument, she cleared her throat. "Now that you're here, I suppose I have no choice but to listen to you." A pause. "What do you want?"

The acrobat snaked her braid around her finger, twisting it in aggravation. _Oh, what are you supposed to tell her?_

"Um, well, I just wanted to ask how you're doing here."

"Hah!" The call echoed dangerously. "Are you really _that_ blind, Ty Lee? Do I _look_ like I'm enjoying myself? If you plan to misuse my time with this rubbish, then leave. Just because I have a good hour to kill before warden lets me out for recess doesn't mean I want it wasted."

"I'm sorry, Azula, it's just that it's been so long since we last conversed."

"So you can't talk to me? I _almost_ feel offended."

Azula's sarcasm was just as Ty Lee recalled it to be. Cold and bitter and chilling to the bone.

"No, no. It isn't that…"

The princess' eyes, though bloodshot and red-rimmed from an earlier bout of lament, were calculating, startling like knives teasing flesh. She suddenly diverted her gaze, catching a glimpse of something skittering across the floor. A rodent, presumably. Dismissing it at once, she flipped her mangled, raven-black hair behind her shoulders and crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Then what is it?"

The lithe athlete sighed, considering the next move as if studying a Pai Sho table.

"I wanted to talk to you about Mai."

"Mai?" Azula questioned. "That matter has already been explained during a previous engagement. I executed her, simple as that."

"Yes, you did, but…"

"Have you had enough time to grieve yet?"

"Well, uh…"

A tickle in her throat caused Azula to initiate a hideous coughing fit. Holding a clenched fist to her lips, she forced the phlegm out with all her might. Her sides burned, ached madly with exhaustion, forcing her to sit back down on the ground. Sliding down from the wall, she did so, ejecting her hands out to cushion her fall. She continued on like this for a solid two minutes or so, until she regurgitated the mass founding her misery.

"Gosh, Azula. Are you all right?"

Ty Lee reached through the bars with her hand, hoping to help the princess back on her feet. Azula swatted at the gesture.

"I'm fine. Get away from me, would you?"

The acrobat stepped away and the disposed princess hoisted herself up with the assistance of the bars in front of her. Leaning back against the wall, she studied Ty Lee's face, swallowing the dry, musky air down her throat.

"Azula…" Ty Lee began, "I know you don't regret what you did, and you may not for a few years more –"

"Yes, yes, the warden _loves_ to regale me with the details of my lack of compassion. It has something to do with being psychopathic, or schizophrenic. Ridiculous nonsense, it is. Nonsensical bullshit."

_Hmm, being around slovenly men for a year certainly hardened her vocabulary…_

"As I was trying to say," the circus performer continued, "is that you should consider who you _hurt_ in the process."

"I suppose I hurt _you,_ but that matters little to me."

"I'm talking about Zuko."

"Zuzu?" Azula mocked. "How is he holding up? Did he end up marrying that stupid Water Tribe bitch instead?"

"No. He's heartbroken. Despite winning the war with the Avatar and his allies, he hasn't quite been the same since he found out about her murder. You really hurt him."

"Poor young chap," she coddled in response. "It's a surprise he's keeping me alive here."

"To put his words in my mouth, he said it's to teach you a lesson."

"That old adage? My, my, he must be running out of ideas. Our deadbeat father could have come up with that one."

Ty Lee exhaled, "But it's true, though. And it's not just a punishment; it's more of a demonstration."

"I don't understand."

"He's proving a point. As he said to me, he will never stoop to your level."

"My level?" the princess snorted.

"Zuko won't have you sentenced to death for your crimes; he finds no reason to kill out of rage, like you do. It's awfully _nice_ to have a brother like that, don't you think, Azula? To set that good example for you?"

"Oh, shut your trap!" Tears sprinkled like dew at Azula's eyelashes. "Don't flower him with compliments he doesn't deserve! Look at him! He's sitting on what is _my _throne, ruling what is _my_ country! Isn't that a crime?"

Ty Lee had no time to answer before the rage initiated a violent spasm. Azula's body convulsed, teeth gritting and grinding together as saliva leaked down her chin like an infant spitting up breast milk. Her nails dug at the rocky floor, chipping them down to the quick, but in her madness, the pain went undetected.

Down the hall, feet shuffled, light shuffles, these were. Clad in stern white gowns, two nurses shoved Ty Lee away from the cell and opened it with care, as not to further provoke the delusional princess. The two women whispered a thing or two to themselves as they held her down.

"Visitation with this prisoner is now over." One said in a mechanical voice. "Please make your exit down the closest set of stairs."

"But, what about –"

"Azula? She will be fine as long as she avoids what triggers her hallucinations."

"What are you going to do with her?"

"She's due for shock therapy," the other stated.

"Shock therapy?" Ty Lee asked, mouth agape. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Dangerous, yes. But, it has proved helpful. We have her on a ten-week regimen, every five days per week. She's completed three so far."

The gymnast stared down at the writhing princess in the way a new mother would stare at a dying newborn baby. The young woman's limbs were distorted, but, for the most part, her seizure had died down. Pity swirled and lingered like a disturbing aura, and Ty Lee took it as her sign to leave.

She turned back for a moment, and continued down the corridor.

"Good luck, Azula," she whispered to no one in particular.

But, this time, not only did luck run out, it _vanished_ as well. Gone like a misplaced penny down a wishing well. A penny amongst the thousands that departed long before…


End file.
